


cereal and candy (and protein)

by myrifique



Category: Leverage
Genre: Cabin Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-14 16:30:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5750224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrifique/pseuds/myrifique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who would have thought going after a tax-evading mogul in snowy Switzerland meant our heroes would get stuck in a cabin overnight?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the_wanlorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_wanlorn/gifts).



> Dear the_wanlorn, your request for pining, ridiculous tropefic and snow/winter made me very happy, as I, too, am a sucker for all of these things. Hope you like it!
> 
> Maybe thanks to my usual cheerleaders, and to my wonderful beta, S.

"Who does tax evasion in Switzerland anymore, anyway?" Eliot asked. He closed the door, annoyed that the simple act required actual effort, the wind blowing snowflakes in his face. "What about the Bahamas?"

"Sunshine, beaches, and working Internet," said Hardison from the couch. "That's a 'probably' on that last one," he added. He was still typing away on his keyboard, every keystroke reeking more and more of desperation.

"Why are you whining?" asked Eliot. "You spend all your time inside anyway. And at least there's electricity in this godforsaken cabin."

"You are _very_ grumpy," said Parker, poking Eliot's bicep, interrupting Hardison's retort. Then she paused. "Should I apologize for getting us stuck in here? The rest of the plan worked," she pointed out.

"How dare you not predict Mother Nature's fickleness," said Hardison, but he was smiling. "I don't think the storm will last much more than a day. It wasn't even on the forecast."

"There's food in the kitchen," Parker pointed out.

"Dry cereal and candy," said Eliot, and yep, he definitely sounded grumpy.

"I think the idea was to point out positive sides of this ordeal," said Parker. 

Eliot sniffed. Then he cleared his throat.

Parker and Hardison looked at each other.

"You good, man?" asked Hardison, barely concealing a worried look. "You wouldn't be getting... sick, or anything, right?"

Parker opened her eyes wide and held her breath.

"What, because I stood in the wind and cold for half a day? Of course not," said Eliot, with a frown. And a scratchy voice. He cleared his throat again. "I don't get sick."

"Right," said Hardison, and he shook his head the tiniest bit in Parker's direction. 

"Right," she said, too, mimicking Alec. "You know, there's only one bedroom here, it might be a good idea to take shifts sleeping. You could go first, Eliot?"

"Not that you need sleep like a normal human being," said Hardison, quickly.

Parker agreed, and they talked over each other, and Eliot rubbed the bridge of his nose, and sighed. "Fine, I will take a nap," he said, "if it gets you two to shut up for a minute." He turned around and walked towards the door.

"He was a little less rude than last time," said Parker, in that voice she used when she thought she was whispering. "Do you think we managed to put him to sleep soon enough to avert the disaster of the Great 2013 Cold?" The capitals were obvious in her tone.

"Maybe he just likes us more than he did back then," said Hardison.

"I heard that, and I don't," said Eliot before falling down on the bed. He gave a brief thought to securing the room, but- his people were safe on the other side of the door, and there was only the one door, and no one would be dumb enough to hang around this part of the woods in a blizzard. _No one but us_ , he thought, and despite the cold, something felt warm in his chest.

\---

He was awakened by kitchen noises. Parker was the quietest person he knew - she could probably even sneak up on him, in his current sorry state - so that probably meant Hardison was trying to cook something. Eliot thought about getting up, helping out, feeding them, but he coughed and it felt like his entire insides wanted to escape his body through his throat, and he put a hand on his burning head and closed his eyes again.

\---

"I still think we should have gone with the cereal," said Parker, watching anxiously from her post, sitting on the counter. "It's impossible to ruin. Pour cereal, pour milk, enjoy delicious meal. The milk part is not even required."

"Parker, this is chicken soup from a box," said Hardison, checking under the lid for the thousandth time. "Boil water, pour soup, enjoy delicious meal. Same number of steps."

"Boiling water is harder than pouring something," she pointed out, and he sighed. 

Then the power went out.

"Shit," he said. "Who has an electric stove in the middle of the freaking woods?"

"The water still seems pretty hot," Parker said helpfully. "Tiny bubbles and everything. You could still try the soup."

Hardison's hand flew to his jeans and Parker knew he was trying to ask the internet what would the best course of action be, and she saw realization dawn on his face when he remembered their network-less state. It was the fifth time he'd gone through the same routine in the past hour.

"I could start a fire," she said. "Cooking! Caveman-style!"

She smiled an exaggerated smile and he looked at her fondly before kissing her quickly. "A fire's probably a good idea, but I'm not sure we should cook on it. I think Eliot will have to accept sugary cereal as his get-well-soon meal. Unless you really think this water's hot enough to work?" He bit his lip and put a cautious finger in the water. Yeah, better not. 

"Remember when I was sick and he made me that fancy yogurt thing, with fresh fruit and those weird seed things, but he put Lucky Charms in it?" Hardison chuckled at Parker's dreamy look.

"I think that was the only time he acknowledged it as actual food," he said. "Parker's Special Sick Meal."

Parker moved in front of the fireplace and artfully placed logs and flint before cracking a match. Hardison sat in front of the fire's glow and held out an arm, inviting Parker for a cuddle. She sat down in his embrace, and he could feel her jittery against him, his tiny thief who could not stay still for long, but who'd try for his sake. "Remember when he cooked up that duck thing, with peaches and corn, as an apology for the last time he was sick?" she said, and she sounded dreamy again. 

Hardison chuckled again and kissed Parker's hair. "I do. It almost made the cold worth it."

\---

Eliot woke up in the middle of the night, feeling disoriented. The room was dark, though the living room's glow filtered through the closed door. He turned the handle softly. There was a bowl of dry cereal at the foot of the door, and the corner of his lips rose.

Parker and Hardison were tangled on the floor, in front of the fireplace, a makeshift cover on their bodies. Eliot stood there - not quite sure why he got up in the first place. It had felt like he needed to look after them, to keep them safe from - he wasn't sure what. Things were blurry in his head. So he just looked at them. He looked and looked and looked, his eyes following the flames' dancing light on their bodies. Parker looked peaceful, and Hardison was _smiling_ , like the damn fool he was. She was lying on top of him, and his hand was curled on her hip. Her head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck.

Eliot's heart tore up from his chest, full of the desire to lie down with the two people he loved most in the world, or at least that's how it felt. In the process, he coughed.

Parker blinked awake, and she sat up quickly, quietly, moving like water, Hardison not even noticing. "How are you?" she asked him, softly, and he didn't know what to say, how to sum up the things he felt when he watched the two of them, tonight, and every night-

But then he realised she was probably talking about his cold. "Fine," he grumbled, though he tried to make it a soft grumble.

He took a step back toward his room. "Stay," she said, quietly, piercingly.

He stilled, breathed hard once or twice, then went for levity. "I think the bed is more comfortable than the floor," he said.

"Okay," she said, like she was letting him believe that was all there was to this situation. "I'll go with you." 

She stood up before he had time to say anything. She covered Hardison softly, making sure her movements didn't disturb him, even though she knew he would sleep through a hurricane. Then she straightened up, and wrapped her hand around Eliot's wrist. "The cabin's getting cold, you shouldn't sleep alone."

Eliot felt like he should argue, and half-formed words did escape his mouth, but then he coughed, and Parker led him to the bed, and his entire life revolved around always doing whatever Parker said.

She fit her body against his, and she felt cold, despite having just been in front of the fire, having just been wrapped up against another man's body - against _Alec's_ body - and Eliot knew he was feverish, then, and knew if he had been in his right mind, he would not have let this happen, would not be tangled in a bed with Alec's girl, and a treacherous part of him was glad he was too weak to think straight.

\---

Parker was still there when he woke up. His shirt had ridden up - or maybe he'd tried to get rid of it during the night - it was _hot_ in here, wasn't it? - and her hand was resting on his hipbone. Eliot caught his breath and didn't dare move.

Of course, then he noticed Hardison sitting in the corner, and he basically threw Parker off the bed. (Except he didn't, of course he didn't, he just removed her arm softly and tried to move away from her, but she shivered, so he didn't.) "Sorry- I- she insisted," Eliot said, and it felt like the words were coming to him through clouds. Or through the snow that was still falling.

"You all right, man?" asked Hardison, and he sounded worried. Not worried like "Eliot turns into a shithead when he's sick," or even "my girlfriend is cuddling with a half-naked Eliot," but worried like "Eliot is sick and we are stuck in here for god knows how long."

Eliot closed his eyes. "Sure," he said, willing it to be true. "Just feel- hot." He cracked an eye open again, and he noticed Hardison was wearing his winter coat and a hat. 

"You are very hot," said Parker, who was awake, obviously, and Eliot hadn't noticed it, hadn't picked up on another human being moving in the room he was in, in the _bed_ he was in. She was sitting up next to him, could have been anyone else, could have been someone dangerous who had moved right next to him and he hadn't picked up on it.

Great. 

"Thibauld is in prison," said Hardison, out of nowhere, his eyes never leaving Eliot. "His crew wouldn't come after us without him. And it's still snowing too much for us to leave this cabin, which means it's snowing way too much for anyone else to come in." 

Eliot breathed out as he realized why Hardison had spoken. _We're safe,_ he meant. _You can sleep. No one will hurt us. You don't have to look after us._ Parker's hand delicately moved his hair from his face, tucking it behind his ear, and then she left her hand there, on the top of his head, and he felt her moving softly, caressingly. He turned his head towards her, and she was so close, he was almost nuzzling her leg, and he knew- there was a reason- why- he shouldn't be doing this- but he couldn't remember, and Hardison had said they were safe, and he closed his eyes and breathed her in. (As much as his nose let him.)

He felt movement on the other side of his body, felt the bed dipping under someone's weight, and his muscles tensed, like he needed to fight someone, but then a cool hand rested on his side, fingers moving softly, like someone playing on a keyboard, and Eliot relaxed. "Do you need anything?" asked Hardison, and Eliot didn't know how to answer, because he did, he needed them, but they were here, with him, touching him, surrounding him.

"Maybe water would be good," said Parker, and she stood up, and Eliot's head moved forward, like he wanted to follow her, but she was long gone.

"I'm here," said Hardison, and even though Eliot missed Parker, that was a comfort. Eliot turned and wrapped his arm around Hardison's legs. He stopped fighting against the snow in his head, and fell asleep.

\---

"I'm worried," whispered Hardison. He was still sitting on the bed, Eliot holding him, even though he'd been there for two hours.

"At least he's not punching walls and insulting us," said Parker, trying to sound philosophical. 

"I think I'd like that more, though the cuddling is nice." He paused, then he looked up at her. "What if he's really, seriously sick, and we're stuck in here for a week?"

"We won't be stuck in here for a week," said Parker, looking out the window. "Probably a couple more days, though," she admitted after a while. She looked back at the two men on the bed. Hardison was looking worriedly down at Eliot, sleeping in his lap, and Hardison's hands looked like he wanted to surround Eliot with his body heat. One hand was in his hair, and the other around his arm, moving up and down softly. 

"He's shivering," said Hardison. 

"Well, of course he is, the fire's heat doesn't really reach in here." Parker was wearing her winter coat, too. "We should move the mattress in front of it."

Hardison's hands tightened around Eliot, like he was loathe to wake him up, to remove him from his protection (which sounded surreal, Eliot needing _his_ protection, but there it was). "I know," said Parker, acknowledging the impulse with a nod. "But he'll be happier over there. And so will we."

"Hey," Hardison whispered in Eliot's ear. Eliot tightened his grip around him. Hardison looked up helplessly at Parker. She sat down on Eliot's other side.

"Eliot," she said, quietly, but he heard her, and turned towards her, though he still seemed to be sleeping. "Eliot," she said again, a hand on his cheek. She winced as she felt him burning up. 

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty," said Hardison, teasing, trying his hardest to sound normal despite his fears. "Do you need True Love's Kiss?"

Parker kissed the top of Eliot's head, like Hardison's suggestion was a sound one. Eliot did wake up at that.

"'m up, I'm all right," he said, though he definitely did not sound all right. The short words had sounded like they came from the bottom of his throat and met several obstacles on the way up, and they threw him in a cough that wracked his entire body.

"Hey," said Parker, a hand on Eliot's shoulder, steadying him. "Come with me, I saw some honey in the kitchen, it'll help." Eliot stood up, not questioning Parker, not protesting, despite how he clearly wobbled as soon as he got off the bed.

As soon as they left, Hardison busied himself moving the bed, Parker coming back to help him once she had sat Eliot down in front of a cup of hot water. ("Tea, caveman style," she said, and Hardison allowed himself to smile at her.) They filled the bed with blankets, and every blanket-adjacent thing they could find, towels, curtains, table-clothes, and when he finished his tea and stood beside the makeshift bed, Eliot seemed like himself for a second, ready to make a sarcastic comment about their home-decorating abilities, but he didn't. He just fell into the bed, and let himself be tucked in.

They sat on either side of him, warmed by the fire, and waited.

\---

When Eliot woke up, he was disoriented again, but not in the same way as the- five, ten, who knew- times before. He blinked at the sunlight streaming through the windows, then he assessed the room, out of habit - buzzing noises of working appliances, coffee dripping, Parker sleeping next to him, Hardison looking right at him.

"Hey," said Hardison, softly. He was looking at Eliot like he would maybe break at any moment, which was a look Eliot had not seen on anybody's face in years. He could have done without it.

"Hey," said Eliot, and it didn't sound too much like a grunt. He cleared his throat, but didn't actually cough. Parker stirred beside him, and he put a hand on her side to calm her down. She burrowed further into him. Eliot risked a look at Hardison, but he seemed unperturbed.

"Get some water," said Hardison, handing him a glass. 

Eliot took it gratefully. "Coffee would also be good," he said, and Hardison hesitated. "What, are recovering patients not allowed caffeine?"

"I have no idea," said Hardison, honestly. "Electricity came back ten hours ago, but the Internet is still spotty enough that I gave up." Eliot raised his eyebrows, acknowledging the sacrifice. "Parker and I have mostly played it by ear."

"Well, apparently you didn't do too bad a job playing nurses," said Eliot. "I feel pretty good. Considering."

"Lots of water and honey," said Hardison. "And tender loving care. Could we patent that, do you think?"

"Well, you could, but then Leverage Inc would have to go after you, and that would put you in a weird position." Hardison chuckled. Parker moved again, and Eliot looked at her, trying to assess if she was still sleeping, but her breathing was regular, and Parker had trouble playing dead.

"Listen," Eliot said. "I'm sorry about..." he pointed vaguely in Parker's direction.

Hardison raised an eyebrow, paused, then sighed. "You don't remember anything about the past twenty-four hours?"

Eliot frowned. He remembered feeling hot, then cold. He remembered Parker going to bed with him. He remembered bits of conversation his brain had probably distorted - something about cereal, and peaches, and honey. He remembered hands caressing him, arms holding him, bodies sheltering him. He remembered being delirious, talking about-

He closed his eyes.

_"I love you, man," Eliot had said as Hardison was wiping his forehead with a damp cloth._

_Hardison chuckled. "Tell me again tomorrow, when you're feeling better," he had said._

_"I'm serious," had said Eliot. "I love you, and I love Parker, and not... in the way I should, probably."_

_"I'm serious, too," had said Hardison, and then Eliot remembered lips on his forehead, and a jumble of babbling and images and sensations, and then he didn't remember anything at all._

Eliot opened his eyes. "It's just a jumble, man," he said, and he took the easy way out and Hardison knew it. 

Parker sat up, and kissed Eliot's cheek. Then she whispered in his ear, in this loud-Parker whisper that anyone around could hear, "We love you, too. Whenever you're ready."

Both of them left Eliot alone, going off to the kitchen, and Eliot lay back on the mattress again. He felt cold and hot again, but he suspected he'd have a lot more trouble getting rid of that particular sickness.


	2. (epilogue)

Parker was perched upside down, eating dry cereal, when Eliot entered the apartment she shared with Hardison. She crunched her mouthful louder, daring him to comment on her choice of breakfast. He looked at her, like he knew exactly what she was doing, and the corner of his mouth raised just a millimeter, and she knew she had him.

"Parker, you're all muscles and bones," said Eliot, walking towards her. His face was level with her upside-down head. 

"Is that a compliment?" she asked, enjoying the dance.

He ignored that, and she took another bite. "Don't you think you need some protein to start your day?"

"Are you offering?" She waggled her eyebrows, and Hardison snickered from the couch.

Eliot smiled, too, though she knew he was trying not to. "I'm not sure how daily breakfast blowjobs would work for us long-term."

"I could offer my services every other day. I mean, if it's for a good cause," said Hardison, sounding delighted. Parker looked back at Eliot, her face bright with mischief, all "isn't that a plan?"

"You're surviving on gummy candy and orange soda," said Eliot. "I'm not sure anything you... produce... would contain proteins." 

"Doesn't seem to bother you," said Hardison, and Parker giggled, swinging forward a little so she captured Eliot's smile in a kiss.

Eliot didn't reply, acknowledging defeat, and he walked off to the kitchen to cook something, probably egg-white omelets full of vegetables or something else as equally disgustingly healthy.

"This would be much easier if you just lived here," said Parker, her legs drawing an arc in the air as she left her post to follow him. Hardison was looking at her, admiring, and she didn't know if he liked the acrobatics or the proposal. Probably both.

Eliot stopped making noise in the kitchen. Hardison held his breath. Parker peeked in the kitchen, watching Eliot's still back, his deep breath the only movement. "Yeah, maybe I will," Eliot said, finally, not looking at her. 

Parker grinned and ran to him, wrapping her arms around him, and he turned his head towards her, kissing her, with this goofy little smile Eliot never wanted to admit he got around them. Then she ran in the living room and dropped in Hardison's waiting arms.

"Masterfully executed," he said, and she kissed him, too.

Eliot stood in the kitchen's doorway, looking at them. "I've been played, haven't I?"

"Yeah," said Hardison, as Parker nodded gleefully. "This is us gloating at you, look, this is our gloating face." Eliot chuckled, then walked back in the kitchen, shaking his head.

He sprinkled cereal and candy on their omelets, managing to quell his gag reflex, and he did _not_ shape the eggs like hearts - but Parker did, and he found he didn't mind.


End file.
